


Congratulations, You're a Parent

by txa123



Series: The Explorer's Apprentice [1]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Author has not finished the game but he knows a good amount, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pre-Canon, Quirrel is not ready to be a parent but here he his, Scooter's pronouns switch between 'he' and 'they' but mostly stay at 'he', Slight spoilers, Yes it's a self-insert it's fine it's fine, a little bit but it depends on your headconons I suppose, more tags to be added as needed, potential canon-divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-11-04 14:43:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txa123/pseuds/txa123
Summary: Quirrel was not ready for parenthood, but really, who is? He certainly wasn't expecting it sprung on him while on a search through the Royal Waterways, but you know how the old saying goes. "One man's trash is another man's Treasure"





	1. One Man's Trash

**Author's Note:**

> This work is the first in a trilogy. I hope you enjoy reading about our favourite Hallownest Explorer's escapades in child-rearing as much as I enjoyed writing it. More to come

Quirrel was an adventurer, a scholar, and most importantly, alone. He didn’t mind some social time with the various bugs of Hallownest, of course not, but his lifestyle wasn’t exactly suited for long-term relationships  in any sense of the word. Quirrel left his home empty for weeks on end to go on Escapades, and never stayed in the same place too long. Certainly not a good life in which to raise a child, and yet that was exactly what the explorer was faced with. 

 

Quirrel was not one to go hunting for Geo, but on the days his wallet felt empty, he knew it was time to start searching. The nail that he carried with him was a bit too delicate to swing into geoclusters, so he was left with chest-hunting, which Quirrel didn’t mind, he found it a bit more elegant than scrambling about on the floor of Hallownest. The Junk Pile in the Royal Waterways was always full of chests, and other doo-dads some bugs may find interesting, so Quirrel made the trek down. 

 

Hearing noises was not uncommon down below the City of Tears. Flukes and Belflies made their homes down in the wet darkness, so Quirrel was used to squeaks and groans echoing through the pipes. What he was NOT used to was hearing those squeaks and groans coming from a chest at his feet. Now, Quirrel was a fairly decent fighter, he knew how to wield the nail he carried around, but he wasn’t as quick as he used to be, and wasn’t sure if he could avoid something latching onto his face when he opened the chest. He decided it best to leave the chest unopened, and went about his business. It wasn’t long before that explorer’s curiosity got the better of him, and with the greatest caution, Quirrel opened the chest.

  
  


Quirrel wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he opened the chest, but it certainly wasn’t a small moth caterpillar. “Well, this is certainly unorthodox. Hello there, little one, how did you find your way down here?” He asked. The caterpillar looked up at him with big bright eyes, blinking at the light. The Moth Tribe was wiped out at the rise of The Infection, so finding one of their Caterpillars all the way out here was…suspicious. “Erm, do you have a family?” The caterpillar blinked again, and tilted his head. Quirrel had to admit, the little one was certainly charming.  _ No, NO! Don’t think like that, otherwise you’ll get attached and bring it home and- _

“Soo?” The caterpillar made a little noise that sounded like he was trying to make words with no knowledge of what words are supposed to sound like. Quirrel had to take a knee.

_ Do NOT. GET ATTACHED. WE CANNOT HANDLE THE RESPONSIBILITY OF BEING A PARENT! _

 

The explorer spent a good twenty minutes debating with himself whether to leave the defenseless youngling in the Junk Pile, at the mercy of all the creatures living in the pipes, or to take him home and risk getting attached and ending up with a child he wasn’t ready for. During his debate (which he had, out loud, in front of the caterpillar), he began to pace, and the little bug began to follow him. He even started making noises to mimic Quirrel’s, which Quirrel found as enchanting as it was frustrating. “You certainly aren’t making this any easier.” He said, holding the child at eye level. The child, in turn, cocked his head to the side and began making little trilling noises. Quirrel chuckled, “Well, I’m glad that my moral quandary is amusing to you.” He placed the little caterpillar on his head, and began a much more careful trek back to the City of Tears. 

 

*****

 

“Alright, you may spend the night here, but afterward we are going to find you a PROPER home.” The caterpillar looked around with his big, bright eyes, utterly fascinated by the scattered belongings that littered Quirrel’s home. Quirrel began searching through his journals to see what he could find about moths, but that search proved not very successful. The Moth Tribe was fairly secretive, and he doubted that they would have written down infant care or really, much of anything; his search was cut short by the sound of something clattering to the floor. Quirrel whipped around to see the little caterpillar under a small pile of Wanderer’s Journals, flailing stumpy little legs in a fruitless effort against the weight. He rushed over and pushed the journals away, picking up the little bug and checking him over for injuries. The caterpillar seemed unhurt, but that didn’t stop Quirrel from fussing, an act he only realised he was doing when he set the child back on the ground. He cleared his throat, “Do be careful around here. Things are prone to toppling like that.” To his credit, he really tried to sound distant, but as he began to sneak glances at the child, he realised just how much of his heart the child had taken.

 

That night, as he listened to the perpetual rains tap-tap-tapping on his roof, Quirrel looked down at the small caterpillar currently sleeping on a pile of moss, and began to wonder about the child’s origins. The Moth Tribe, as far as he knew, had been completely decimated by the rise of the Infection. There was talk of a Seer, who survived, but he had yet to see or hear more than rumours about her. Yet, there sat beside him, a small moth caterpillar, dreaming away as though he weren’t the last (or second to last) of his kind, not a care in the world. Quirrel sighed, rubbing his eyes from under his mask. He wasn’t sure he could handle the responsibility of raising a child, especially not one he knew so little about. Due to his nomadic nature, Quirrel had never really considered the possibility of finding a mate and becoming a parent. The thought had crossed his mind occasionally, of course, but he never had much interest in the idea of romance. He wouldn’t be a very good partner anyway, since he would always just run off on adventures, perhaps leaving a note if he remembered (His memory can be spotty). That wasn’t a good environment to raise a child in, and Quirrel knew that, so the idea of child-rearing was more a passing thought than a want or a fantasy.

“Mrrr?”

“Ah, I’m sorry little one, did I wake you?” Quirrel asked, looking down at sleepy caterpillar beside him. The caterpillar didn’t say anything, he barely even looked up. Instead, he climbed his way onto Quirrel’s lap, and went back to sleep. Quirrel sighed again, and went back to thinking. The little moth child was certainly endearing, quite the little charmer, and curious too. That evening alone Quirrel had to save the little one from falling books, cups, relics, and his nail. Each time, Quirrel told the caterpillar to be careful, then went back to his research. He tried to remember his own childhood, but those memories felt distant and hard to reach. He assumed, given his current nature, he was much like the caterpillar when he was a youngling. He wondered if he gave his parents as much trouble as this child gave him. Quirrel knew he wasn’t ready to raise a child, he ran off too many times and there wasn’t really anyone he could leave in charge while he was away; Quirrel had a lot of acquaintances, but few friends, and even fewer who he’d be comfortable asking to babysit. The little bug in his lap began to stir, he sounded like he was having a bad dream; Quirrel rested a hand on the little one’s head, and the caterpillar settled down again. He continued to watch as the caterpillar slept, and began to think that perhaps he could spare some time at home. He looked up at the mess that his house had become, it definitely could use some tidying up. Books strewn about the floor, Wanderer’s Journals piled precariously high on multiple surfaces, interesting rocks just tossed wherever. Maybe he could put the Exploring on pause for a little while, at least until the caterpillar was old enough to be left alone. Quirrel stretched, careful not to disturb the sleeping bug in his lap, and gently transferred him to the nest of moss. Quirrel then released the Lunaflies in the lamp on his desk, and went to bed.


	2. Parent of the Year Award

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day brings new challenges in Quirrel's newfound Parenthood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been so long. Finals decided to kick my ENTIRE ass. I'll be trying to update when I can. (Also this chapter feels short but it's like 897 words so *shrug*)

Quirrel was woken up by the _pap pap pap_ of something patting his face. “Ah, good morning little one.” The little caterpillar looked down at his face with the same bright eyes he saw at their first meeting; he tilted his head.

“Soo?”

“Is that all you can say?” Quirrel asked, though he was almost certain he knew the answer to that question. He patted the little bug’s head, and began to sit up. “Alright, alright. I suppose you’re hungry, aren’t you?” Quirrel lifted the caterpillar to be eye-level with him. The young bug made small noises that Quirrel took as a ‘yes’. He dragged his hand down his mask, waking up more fully now. He picked up the Caterpillar and placed him on his head.

“SOO??? _SOO??????_ ”

“What? I thought you liked going on my head.” Quirrel took the caterpillar off of his head and looked at him. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf, and looked terrified. Quirrel was a bit confused, since the little one seemed to enjoy going on his head the day previous. The Caterpillar wouldn’t stop shaking, so Quirrel set him down in his lap. “Would you rather walk on your own this time?” The small child nodded, but wouldn’t move. Quirrel patted him on the head, and decided to wait until he stopped shaking.

 

*****

 

“I really should give you a name, you know. What if you get lost and I have to call for you?” Quirrel said, walking at a slow enough pace so the Caterpillar could keep up. Little Caterpillar feet can’t move very fast, so it was slow going. “Also, I don’t really know what you eat, so I’m just going to get one of everything and hope for the best.” Not knowing what a child eats is a pretty big problem, but Quirrel figured that he was making the best out of his situation, considering about 24 hours ago he only ever had to worry about himself.

“S-Soo??”

“Yes I know you’re hungry, I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you right now. We have just a bit further to go though, I promise.” Quirrel turned to face the caterpillar toddling behind, and patted his head. The caterpillar seemed...Unconvinced. Or at least as unconvinced as a child can look. Quirrel chuckled at this, and kept moving. He pushed aside some brush as the two finally arrived in the Fungal Wastes, allowing his tiny friend to take the lead for a little bit. Quirrel stretched his arms above is head, and began looking around for something remotely edible. He began to collect mushrooms, leaves, and some small flowers that were probably not poisonous, and turned to present his findings to his new child. Or he would, if he knew where the child went. Quirrel looked to the left, then to the right, then back down where he thought the Child should be, before registering what all had just happened. “Oh Wyrm I just lost the last moth child to the Fungal Wastes.” He dropped everything he was holding and dashed into the Wastes, nail unsheathed, ready to cut away any threat that was unfortunate enough to get in his way. “I am the worst parent EVER!” He cried as he frantically looked around for any sign of a white caterpillar. There wasn’t even anyone he could ask, since the only sentient bugs still alive in the Wastes were the Mantises, and he doubted he could get a word in edgewise before they attacked him. “Okay okay okay.” Quirrel forced himself to slow down, if anything just so he can catch his breath. “We need to think logically. He has little caterpillar feet, so I doubt he could have gone too far. I don’t think I looked away from him for too long either, so-”

“Soo?” Quirrel’s worried thought process was interrupted by a small voice from in a bush next to him. Soon after, a little mask popped out, with an inquisitive expression.

“OH WYRM I THOUGHT I LOST YOU!!” Quirrel scooped up the small caterpillar in what would be a bone-crushing hug if the child had bones. When he pulled away, Quirrel scowled slightly at the small bug in his arms. “Look, I understand you are very curious about the world of Hallownest, but you can’t just run off like that. Do you know how worried I was? You could have gotten hurt.” The child sagged as Quirrel chastised him, looking up with big slightly wet eyes. Quirrel sighed, and put the child back down. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, I was just worried that I had lost you.” The child looked sheepishly to the side. Quirrel knelt down to be closer to the Caterpillar, and patted him on the head. “I know the world around us is incredibly interesting, and certainly new and exciting to you, but it’s also incredibly dangerous for a little bug like you to be wandering about on your own.” The child looked at Quirrel now, with an almost hopeful expression. He picked the child up again, this time holding him a bit more like one would hold a youngling. “I promise I’ll take you on an adventure, but maybe we should get something to eat first.” The child giggled as Quirrel booped him between the eyes, which made Quirrel smile as well. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know to Quirrel's credit, he's doing his best.


	3. What's in a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Quirrel.”  
> “Yes Lemm.”  
> “What is that?”  
> “What is what, Lemm?”
> 
> (AKA Lemm is so tired of Quirrel's shenanigans)

The trip back to the City of Tears was much less eventful, and after a breakfast of Tiktik meat (for Quirrel) and a single berry (for the caterpillar), Quirrel began to tidy his house up proper, and tried to grub-proof everything he thought might be a danger. The child was taking a nap, exhausted after the excitement in the Fungal Wastes. As he was cleaning, Quirrel’s mind began to drift, thoughts coming in and out of his head as he went about his business. Occasionally, he’d glance at the little caterpillar snoozing on his little moss pile, smile, then go back to his work. He moved to the pile of Wanderer’s Journals that almost squashed the child the night before. Quirrel, despite being a bit of a scholar himself, wasn’t well-versed in the dialects of Hallownest’s older citizens, and usually took the Wanderer’s Journals he found in his travels to the Relic Seeker near the memorial to the Hollow Knight. He hadn’t seen Lemm in quite a while, perhaps it was time to pay him a visit. Quirrel swept all the journals into a bag, and set them by the door before going back to clean what he could. 

 

Before long, the little caterpillar woke up from his nap, and trotted over to Quirrel and tapped his leg. “Ah, good afternoon, little one. Did you sleep well?” Quirrel knelt down to be closer to the child. The child seemed well-rested, if a big groggy. “I have an errand to run, if you’d like to come with me.” The child perked up at this, and nodded excitedly. Quirrel chuckled at the child’s enthusiasm. “Haha, alright. We’re going down near the lower part of the city, to drop some things off with Relic Seeker Lemm.” The caterpillar cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Ah, right. Lemm owns a relic shop a little ways down. He’s, uh,” Quirrel paused, trying to find the right words, “A bit prickly at first, but he’s a good friend of mine.” The caterpillar seemed to relax, and let Quirrel pick him up. Slowly, so he had the opportunity to wiggle free if he so chose. When he didn’t, the duo headed off to see the Relic Seeker.

 

*****

 

“Quirrel.”   
“Yes Lemm.”

“What is that?”

“What is what, Lemm?”

Lemm huffed, he knew that Quirrel knew what he was talking about, Quirrel was just being difficult.

“The little grub currently running amok in my shop.” The grub in question was happily trotting around the shop, occasionally picking things up and causing Lemm to snatch them away and shoo the caterpillar. Lemm pinched the space between his eyes, and sighed.

“Ah, that’s my-” Quirrel stopped himself, when did he start thinking of the caterpillar as his child? It’s only been a day, surely that’s a bit too quick to-

“QUIRREL! GET THAT LITTLE…SCOOTER OUT OF MY SHOP!” Quirrel was snapped out of his thoughts by Lemm yelling as the caterpillar was scooting around on an old wagon all over the floor of the Relic Shop, careening into shelves and having the time of his life.

“Ah! S-So sorry, my friend! I couldn’t leave him alone in the house and I needed to clean up anyway so-”   
“I DON’T CARE WHY HE’S HERE GET YOUR KID OFF THAT WAGON!” Quirrel knew that Lemm wasn’t actually that mad, but he was about as unprepared for a child as Quirrel was. The two bugs began chasing the child around the small shop, but the caterpillar thought it was some kind of game, and just scooted faster. Quirrel didn’t want to yell, but Lemm had no qualms shouting so loud he might shatter the windows. The ‘game’ ended when the wagon the caterpillar was zooming on got caught on a fancy-looking rock and launched him and the wagon into a bookshelf, causing everything to tumble down onto the floor.

“Oh WYRM ARE YOU ALRIGHT??” Quirrel ran over to the pile of books and journals, pushing them as carefully as possible to free the child, who was crying and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Is HE alright?” Lemm exclaimed incredulously, “What about my shop!!” Lemm ran over to the pile and began putting books back on the shelf. Quirrel scooped his child up and tried to console him. Lemm turned around and faced Quirrel, books still in hand. “Quirrel, I appreciate your business, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”   
“I completely understand. I must apologise for my child’s behaviour, had I known this would happen, I wouldn’t have come.” Lemm groaned, pinching the space between his eyes again.

“Listen, I think perhaps it’d be best if you didn’t come in until he’s old enough to be left home alone.” Quirrel nodded, and began gathering his things. He started to help Lemm clean up while still holding a tearful child, but Lemm ushered him out. “I have my own system that’d take too long to explain. I’ll do this myself. Have a good day.” The door shut and locked as Quirrel stood right outside.

 

*****

 

When the pair arrived back at Quirrel’s home, Quirrel sat the caterpillar down on the desk. “Now listen, I know that Lemm’s shop is full of new and exciting things to look at, but they are not toys. They are priceless artifacts that he’s been collecting over many many years. Please be more careful next time”. The child looked down at the floor, but seemed to understand. Quirrel chuckled, patting the child’s head. “I must admit, though, seeing Lemm so worked up was...amusing.” The caterpillar looked up, a small glint in his eyes. “What was it that he called you? ‘Scooter’?” The caterpillar perked up at that word, looking at Quirrel with wide eyes. “Oh, do you like that name?”

“Soo!!” Quirrel laughed at the child’s excitement, picking him up and spinning him around.   
“Very well then! Scooter it is!” Quirrel smiled wide under his mask, Scooter laughed and squealed with delight, flailing his little limbs around. Before long the two got too dizzy and had to sit down.

 

*****

 

As their second day together came to a close, Quirrel decided that his son should sleep in a proper bed, instead of a pile of moss on the floor, no matter how soft it was. “I hope you enjoyed your adventures in Hallownest, when you’re a bit older we’ll go further away from the city.” Quirrel said, sitting on the bed next to Scooter. The little caterpillar was trying his best to stay awake and listen to his father. He liked Quirrel’s voice, it was pleasant to listen to, friendly, felt like home. Scooter made a sleepy chirp, and Quirrel smiled. “The old Kingdom is vast and with no small amount of danger, it is certainly fascinating, even to someone who’s lived here most of his life. I can only imagine the feeling of one who’s seeing everything for the first time.” Scooter yawned and stretched his legs out. “You had a very exciting day today, didn’t you?” Quirrel patted his son’s head. “Seems like it’s sleepytime for little grubs.” He chuckled; oh Wyrm, he really did sound like a father. Quirrel got up off the bed, careful not to disturb the now sleeping Scooter, and moved to the couch across the room. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually used this couch, it still looked as new as when Quirrel moved in years ago. Usually Quirrel would come into his house, drop off whatever he collected on his travels, maybe take a nap on a surface (usually the floor), and then leave again. If he was being honest, sleeping on something cushioned was a nice change of pace. Quirrel stretched and laid down, listening to the rain on the roof and the light snoring of his son on the bed. Quirrel smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm always open to critique, so comment away if the feeling strikes you.


End file.
